One Last Kiss Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I see the dead through the windows of our cars
As we drive—
Vehicles that disappear under the sun,
Like the men of the Alamo—
Now there are only resurrections at
Disney World,
And the little tales of cenotaphs hung up
In misspelled classrooms—
And the fingers of the blind are always
Needing new brail,
Like leafs need sunlight and rain:
Even after I have driven past so many graveyards—
The corner stations where the old men disappear,
Metamorphosed from the young boys
I thought I knew—
Knowing that there is no longer a respite in the
Angles of their cities—
All that they have known has gone away
And they are only good for one last kiss of a dying rose.